It clicked and the bookshelf was once more intact. ‘I am far from imagining anything of the kind. ” He said with a laugh. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. Casting a hasty glance at the old and ruinous prison belonging to the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester (whose palace formerly adjoined the river), called the Clink, which gave its name to the street, along which he walked: and noticing, with some uneasiness, the melancholy manner in which the wind whistled through its barred casements, the carpenter followed his companion down an opening to the right, and presently arrived at the water-side. Groups of boys took to ogling her as she walked frenetically from class to class.
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